The Clone’s Mate by Susan Trombley

Seventeen

Subject 34 really didn’t like the “waterfall” that poured off one of the taller rocks, and he made his distaste for the sudden rush of water known in a very vocal fashion. I ignored his outraged chitters as I sighed in pleasure while standing beneath the water, rubbing the sand out of my hair and every other vulnerable—and chafed, damnitall—part of my body.

Nirgal had finally agreed to hose me off. Not that Subject 34 complained about my increasing body odor as time passed—don’t ask me how much, because no one tells me anything—but I felt uncomfortable with it. After all, I still had to use the bathroom, and though I had a big sandbox at my disposal, I lacked toilet paper, so things were getting unpleasant for me.

I placed an order with Nirgal—as I put it—for a couple rolls of TP and a hose down, and he’d delivered on the second with an impatient grumbling, but I still had to wait and see if he’d provide the first. He was pretty stingy, and I mocked him for having a low budget on his research project. I gleefully implied that he couldn’t get enough grant money, then regretted it because he decided to give me an exhaustive description of exactly how funding worked for these projects.

The dude really needed a hobby! Apparently, he didn’t even get any mobile apps on his precious tablet. I mean, what the hell, right? No Sweet Smash? Really? How did the sadistic evil space fairies live like that?

Subject 34 occupied the majority of my time in the enclosure, so at least I didn’t often get bored. In fact, the only time he wasn’t nearby, giving me something to do—a lot of that something being very entertaining—was when he went into the maze to hunt for his meals. They wouldn’t just toss some steaks into the enclosure for the poor guy. They made him chase down everything. Fortunately, I suspected Subject 34 enjoyed it.

Also fortunately, 34 seemed willing to listen to me when I insisted he not eat any more creatures that could talk. Since he dutifully nodded his agreement not to hunt sapient beings, I smirked towards the wall where I suspected Nirgal and his team watched us like we were animals in a zoo. I was getting used to it. I was even growing accustomed to Nirgal yapping in my ear.

None of the other evil scientists ever bothered to speak to me, so I figured Nirgie was the one running the show. Honestly, it was better that way. I wasn’t fond of the Pinky Poo guy either. At least I’d gotten used to Nirgal, and he’d apparently grown accustomed to dealing with me.

“Add soap, and shampoo, and conditioner to my shopping list, Nirgie,” I called aloud as I scrubbed at my body as best I could beneath the waterfall.

Under my feet, a grating had been revealed below the sand, sucking it down into a lower floor along with the water. The sand in this enclosure was often shifted by the opening and closing of grates beneath it, causing a kind of cycling effect that kept the detritus left by me and Subject 34 from building up and stinking the place up too much. The flowers on their lethal thorny plants also helped perfume the air and keep it fragrant.

Not that 34 ever needed any type of perfume. He always managed to smell yummy, despite clearly not being a fan of water. I did try to lure him beneath the waterfall, but even though he seemed intrigued by my exposed breasts and the nipples I tweaked as I fluttered my lashes at him, he only moved close enough to stand just beyond the spray, watching me patiently while in a low crouch.

I figured he was waiting for me to finish, and he proved me right, snatching me up in his arms as soon as I stepped out of the waterfall. I moaned as he explored my naked upper body, his clawed fingers curious as they moved over my skin. Then he lowered his head to rub his mandibles all along my torso. He dragged them over and over across my nipples, and despite the odd feeling of those hard parts of him, my nipples peaked, which brought them even more of his intent focus.

The water still dripping from my skin beaded on his chitin, sliding off like his plates had been coated to deter moisture. I told him I’d like it if he’d suck on my nipples like he did my clit, and I had to give the guy credit for being willing to try anything I suggested. Whether he enjoyed the act or not, my reaction to his bisected lips closing around one hard nipple seemed to please him enough that his plates hummed with vibration.

He slipped a clawed finger inside my already soaking slit, careful not to poke me with the sharp tip of it as he slowly fingered me. I clasped my legs around his thighs, below the silvery markings on the plates along the sides of his body that I’d learned caused his stingers to strike reflexively.

That would have been nice to know from the start. Much as I enjoyed the aftereffect of some of his stings, I wasn’t keen to invite any more of them.

He held me easily against his body, standing with me as if my weight didn’t strain him. Given the size of some of the prey he’d dragged out of the maze to finish off in the enclosure, since he didn’t like being too far from me, I wasn’t surprised he was so strong. Not that I was a behemoth or anything. In fact, my cage diet plan had drastically reduced my weight by the time I’d been thrust back into this enclosure. “Feeding” from Subject 34 had restored some of my lost pounds to me.

He sure didn’t seem to mind my extra weight, and maybe even preferred me a little fluffier, since he wanted to feed me all the time. Of course, given the fact that he seemed to enjoy the process as much as I did, if not more, I guessed there were other reasons he was plumping me up too.

Nirgal never sent food I would eat, so I was guessing we were still in the “let’s see if Subject 34 will keep providing for this chick” phase of the experiment. So far, it looked to be going well in that department. If anything, 34 seemed more attached to me with each day that passed—and if I was guessing the time correctly, quite a few days had passed.

I was all ready for 34 when he replaced his finger in my opening with his shaft, sliding it inside me with little resistance from my body, which was already craving more of him. It never took long to get me in the mood, especially since he pumped out so much of that sexy pheromone when he was excited that I was hot for him with just a few whiffs.

My thighs flexed as I began rocking on his shaft, but he quickly took over the rhythm, catching me by my waist with his upper hands as his lower hands cupped my buttocks. He pulled me down on his length, driving it deep before pushing me slowly off it, then pulling me back down again. His wings flared behind him as he pumped inside me, vibrating as much as his body did. He lifted one upper hand to circle the nape of my neck and tug my mouth towards his, kissing me with hunger and steadily increasing skill.

He still wasn’t much for speaking, though he’d tried out a few more words. I guessed he wasn’t fond of the language, or perhaps just the act of forming words with his lips. Or he was just a naturally reticent kind of guy. At any rate, he preferred making those chittering sounds in his throat and the occasional growling noise, and he did both as he brought me to climax, my back arching to push my upper body against his shivering plates. My nipples tingled as they brushed against the hard chitin of his chest.

My days often went like this while in the enclosure, and I wasn’t complaining, now fully accustomed to the knowledge that we were constantly under observation. At first, Nirgal had expressed his frustration that Subject 34 still refused to communicate directly with any of the aliens and would only talk to me—and even then, he only ever spoke a handful of words.

As time passed, Nirgie seemed to chill out with all his bitching. Maybe, like me, he was finally learning to pick up on Subject 34’s body language and he didn’t need a constant stream of words from his test subject to realize what he was thinking.

So far, I’d detected quite a few emotions from Subject 34. The most obvious was anger, and he never directed that at me. It was always directed towards our captors. The others were more subtle, except for lust, which his vibrating gave away—though there were subtler signs before that started, like his scent, that told me he was in the mood.

His concern for me had also become clear, usually in the way he would surround me protectively when we slept, since he still couldn’t take us back into his crevice. He showed his tenderness by mimicking my actions towards him, touching me the same way I would stroke him in a non-sexual way—okay, sometimes it was a sexual way, but still, I felt tender about him.

I couldn’t say whether his feelings for me were as deep as love, and I wasn’t sure whether that was the way I felt or not either, since my emotions towards Subject 34 were far more visceral and primal than I’d ever experienced before. He did appear to have affection towards me and showed it most when he would repeat my insults to Nirgal, one time even winking at me in a way that caught me off guard. I hadn’t realized he’d picked up not only the gesture, but also the nuanced meaning behind it.

Needless to say, Nirgal wasn’t entirely thrilled about our growing relationship, but he tried to mask his irritation now. I think many of my insults were starting to roll off his back. Perhaps I needed to take another tack to get under his skin.

Why I insisted on doing so, I couldn’t say. To torment him, sure, but not speaking to him at all would probably drive him crazier in the long run. He basically pumped me for information daily, and much to my own confusion, I found myself chatting with Nirgal all the time, especially when Subject 34 was on the hunt. Though I never gave up anything I felt could be used against Subject 34, I did end up talking about the oddest stuff with Nirgal.

Random things like what my favorite stuffed animal had been when I was a child, or what painting I’d been picturing in my head for the last few days, or how I loved the smell of tire stores.

Like I said, weird shit, right? I blamed it on the strangeness of my circumstances and my almost crippling homesickness for Earth. Just like I’d spent hours gesturing in a pointless game of charades with green guy, now I was chattering away with my own captor, even as I found myself falling for my fellow captive.

It was difficult to tell sometimes what Nirgal was thinking about these conversations, but he did ask a lot of personal questions about me that I ended up answering, instead of evading them as I might have done at first. Within probably a week’s time, I think he knew more about me than Michael had bothered to learn in twenty years.

The fact that he actually stretched his budget to provide the things I kept requesting from him probably had something to do with slightly improving my attitude towards him. Before long, I had a full range of hygiene supplies, including a brush and comb, a new set of clothing that I ended up not spending much time in, and even a soft mattress, with a blanket and a pillow. He dropped off all the items in the maze like they dropped off Subject 34’s food.

Apparently, he drew the line at providing paints and canvas, but did surprise me with a sketchbook and a narrow box of sketching implements a few days after he started the daily waterfalls. I squealed with excitement when 34 returned carrying these items along with a few leftover chunks of gore that he’d fortunately kept from dripping on the sketchbook.

“Nirgie, you pumpkin-colored bastard, you keep giving me gifts like this, and I might actually stop hating you!”

“It’s not a gift,” he said huffily in my ear. “You have expressed that you have some skill with drawing. I insist you use these items to sketch Subject 34’s body language and identify what all of it means. We could use those detailed views for our records. For science.”

He hated being thanked, by the way, which was exactly why I did it every time. Honestly, it was probably a bad move, since his team might be wondering why he kept giving in to all the demands of a mere human, but I couldn’t help needling him. He also always had an excuse like the rather lame one he’d offered for the sketchbook. I found his efforts to explain himself entertaining.

After taking a few minutes to truly admire the fine quality of the paper, and the fancy holder that kept the charcoals from staining my fingers, I immediately began sketching. The pencils, if they could be called that, drew far smoother over the expensive paper than I was accustomed to, but I quickly gained a feel for the drawing tools. Before long, I’d made a decent sketch of Subject 34, who watched my pencil move over the paper with his usual intense focus.

I was able to pick up on a new emotion from Subject 34 as his image grew clearer with each sweep of my pencil. He was excited to see his own sketch, creeping closer to me in his usual crouch and craning his neck to get a better view.

“It’s not bad for a preliminary sketch,” I said, though a little self-doubt tinged my voice.

Had I captured the tilt of his head well enough? Were the proportions of his broad shoulders and narrow waist a little off? And what the hell was wrong with the mouth? I’d always struggled with drawing mouths. Never could get those exactly right, and Subject 34’s mouth was pretty special to me. I really wanted to capture it properly.

I’d probably hold off on asking him to show me his true mouth anytime soon to get a sketch of that.

“I suppose it is a passable effort,” Nirgal said stiffly in a tone he used if he didn’t want to give me credit for something when he knew I deserved it. “It is useful that you actually do possess the skill you claimed to have. This primitive medium has only recently regained popularity among our species, and it isn’t easy to obtain such supplies. The investment must be worth the expense.”

“Thirty-four like,” Subject 34 said, shooting a glare towards the “Nirgal wall”, as I now thought of it.

I handed the sketchbook to him so he could get a better look at it, since he was practically crawling into my lap to see it from the proper angle.

He studied it intently, tracing over some of the loose, sweeping strokes of the outline with his claws.

“You’re so handsome,” I said with a girlish giggle that would have had me rolling my eyes at myself not that long ago. I tapped the sketchbook. “Or, as we humans say, ‘you’re hot as… ahem… you’re hot.”

Nirgal had asked me to refrain from teaching Subject 34 human swear words, which apparently only translated as censored beeps in 34’s head, but Subject 34 wouldn’t be dissuaded by beeps without explanation. He’d demand to know what a word meant, and if he thought it would irritate Nirgal, he’d repeat it, and it would become one of the few words in his vocabulary that he actually deigned to speak.

Yeah, he’d picked up on that particularly bad habit of mine too. Since he couldn’t just rip Nirgal to shreds like I know he wanted to, he helped me to torment the scientist with words.

“Thirty-four handsome?” He touched his face with the claws of one upper hand as a lower set of claws traced the lines I’d made for his lips. “Nice face?”

I’d been picking up what I worried might be some insecurity in 34, but I tried to dismiss it, thinking perhaps I was projecting my own insecurities on him. I had plenty of them!

In his case, I speculated that he worried about what hid behind that attractive façade and my previous reaction to it. In fact, he hadn’t split his face open in front of me save for that first day, though he often brought meat back to snack on later.

When he ate now around me, he’d turn his back to me, and keep turning if I tried to move around to get a good look at his face. Something I’d only done once in an effort to inure myself to the sight of his true mouth. He didn’t seem to want me to see it anymore, though he hadn’t been shy about it at first.

“You have a very nice face, thirty-four,” I insisted, tracing the bisections creasing his lips. “But I like you for a lot more than your pretty face, you know.”

His lips spread in a crooked—still a little scary—grin. “Rhonda like feeding.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, shaking my head at him. “Get your mind out of the gutter. Rhonda likes Subject 34 for being such a sweetheart to me.” I shot a glare at the Nirgal wall. “Some people could learn from your example.”

Then my gaze fell upon the sketchbook. I suppose maybe Nirgal was learning. At least he had finally realized that you could get more cooperation from your test subjects if you weren’t a total dick to them.